He looked at her and apparently understood the reason for her frown of concern. He grinned, then allowed his shoulders to slump as though weighted down by the yoke of a plow. His fingers once more curled in toward his palms, and the sharp intelligence in his eyes was concealed by his drooping eyelids. He allowed his lips to part slightly, completing an expression of mild stupidity. Then, as though by the wave of a magician’s wand, his face was once again that of a proud lord and his carriage that of a nobleman.
“There, Mary,” he said. “Does that relieve your mind? I’m not a novice, you know, and if anyone’s actions or appearance gives us away, I fear it will be yours. Fortunately, there’s a woman in this village about your size, and our host has been kind enough to help me purchase from her some clothing more suitable for the winter season. Here’s a warm cloak, a pair of gloves, and sturdier boots for our walk. There’s also a dark shawl for you to wear over your head to help hide that bright hair of yours. Once seen, it would never be forgotten, I fear.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Merriana murmured as she accepted the articles of clothing from him. “I’ll try not to attract attention, but I must speak with you about our trip. I fear I have a confession to make.”
“Ah, at last,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve been waiting since our first meeting for a full confession. What it is you wish to confess? Murders? Treason? I’m all ears.”
“Will you be serious?” Merriana said, hoping he could hear the exasperation in her tone. “I must inform you that I’ve never been on this part of the coast before and have no idea how to get to Vilon from here.”
He smiled. “Is that all? How disappointing. But I anticipated that problem, my dear. Fortunately, our host was able to tell me how to get as far as the estate of the late Comte de Mérchan. He believes the village lies not far from there. Can you locate the village if I lead you to that particular estate?”
Merriana quickly bit her lip and gazed toward the floor, hoping to give the appearance of being in deep thought. She wished her acting abilities were even half as accomplished as the earl believed them to be, but she had discovered, to her discomfort, just how well the man could read her face, and she didn’t want him to see how deeply she was affected by the mention of the Comte de Mérchan.
”Hmmm,” she hummed, playing for time. “Yes, I believe I know that estate and if we can get at least close to it, I should certainly be able to find the village we seek from there.”
She was forced to look up at last. The earl was regarding her closely with eyes that no longer twinkled. A slight frown marred his forehead, but he merely nodded. “Very well. We’ll head across country for the de Mérchan estate and you’ll take over as guide when we reach an area that’s familiar to you. Now let’s eat breakfast and be on our way.”
The sky had turned from pink to a soft blue when they set out, the earl carrying a rather large bundle and Merriana a much smaller one that contained bread and cheese and a bottle of wine for their midday and evening meals. The earl led the way across a field and into a small wood where he began to follow the meandering path of a small brook. They walked in single file and in silence for over an hour, and Merriana had begun to relax and enjoy the peaceful gurgling of the water and the occasional cheerful birdsong when the earl stopped so suddenly that she almost collided with him. He turned to face her, a grim expression on his face and a chilling warning on his lips that effectively drove all thoughts of peace from her mind.
“I don’t know what you’re hiding from me about the Comte de Mérchan’s estate, Mary,” he said, “but I warn you again. If you’re leading me into some sort of trap, you will live at least long enough to regret it.”
Merriana started to deny knowing what he was talking about, but one look into his eyes convinced her that such a denial would be unwise. Truth, or at least partial truth, seemed called for under the circumstances.
“I came through Vilon on my escape from Paris,” she replied, managing to keep her voice steady although her heart was hammering in her chest. “And I was befriended by a man who lives near the de Mérchan estate.”
“Escape?” the earl repeated the one word in her statement that had obviously surprised him. “You were escaping from your own homeland? From whom may I ask?”
“I don’t know,” Merriana answered. “I know I have an enemy, but I don’t know who he is. I realize this sounds strange, but—”
“Damn strange,” the earl said. “The daughter of a dying chef must flee Paris from an unknown enemy. You’ve been reading too many of Mrs. Radcliffe’s gothic novels, my dear. And if you expect me to believe that—”
“Believe what you like,” Merriana interrupted. Nothing was more irritating, she was discovering, than being disbelieved when one was telling the truth.
Her voice trembled with anger as it had not done from fear. “I’ve told you the truth, and you refuse to believe me. You prefer to think that I’m some spy, some threat to you and this mission of yours. Fine. Believe that. I will even tell you if you wish that I am a spy, leading you into danger, planning to see you murdered in your sleep. There. Are you happy, now?”
The earl’s frown changed into a grin. “Ecstatic,” he said. “Nothing makes me happier than the thoughts of being murdered in my sleep. But can I not look forward to a little torture preceding the aforementioned murder? The anticipation would certainly add a scintillating touch, don’t you agree?”
“You are insufferable,” Merriana responded. “You are a boor! You are an imbecile!”
“And you are beginning to repeat yourself, ma petite. Can you not think of a more appropriate epithet than imbecile?”
“It seems eminently appropriate to me, my lord,” she responded, smiling sweetly.
He threw back his head and laughed. “Whatever else you may be, ma belle,” he declared, “at least you are not boring. But we must be serious for a moment. Listen carefully. We may very well run into people who, while not a direct threat to our mission, will at the very least be curious about us. I’m referring to farmers or anyone living in the vicinity who might wonder at two strangers moving about in this area. We will say we’re a married couple, Monsieur and Madame Dupois. You will be Marie, while I am Armand. Our cottage was destroyed in an unfortunate fire and we’re traveling north to find my cousin who owns a farm and will take us in. His name Henri Dupois. We are taking short cuts across the fields because we’re in a hurry to arrive. Can you remember this or should I repeat it?”
“I can remember,” Merriana said. “I am not an imbecile.”
The corners of the earl’s lips quivered. “I’m delighted to be so informed,” he responded. “I shall try to remember that.”
Merriana looked into the earl’s laughing eyes and found it impossible to sustain her anger while he was observing her with such blatant approval on his face. “You often enrage me,” she informed him with a smile, “but I enjoy sparring with you. It’s difficult to break through your guard, but when I do, you’re very good natured about it. I like that.”
The earl bowed, a pleased look on his face. “I’m happy you find a characteristic to favor in me, Mary. Under different circumstances, I believe we could become good friends. But...”
“Yes,” she said, shrugging. “But, Il faut marcher quand le diable est aux trousses.”
“Or, as we would say in England, ‘Needs must when the devil drives.’”
“Oui,” Merriana muttered. Her pleasure dissolved as she watched grim determination replace the twinkle in the earl’s eyes. There could be no sustained shared pleasure in each other’s company while neither trusted the other. The earl motioned for her to follow as he turned to move on. Thank heavens he was not aware that he was leading them toward the estate where Merriana had been born.
The morning had been merely chilly, but as the day progressed, the wind picked up from the north and the air became much colder. By the time they stopped for their midday meal, Merriana was especially thankful for the warmer clothing
the earl had procured for her.
He opened the bundle he carried and spread a blanket under the bare branches of a tree while Merriana unwrapped their bread and cheese. When she declined to drink the wine, he brought her a cup of cold water from the stream.
She was as happy to be seated on the blanket as she was to be eating. She was much more tired than hungry and so chewed slowly, relishing not the food but the fact that her feet were at rest and the muscles in her legs were no longer aching.
“Tired?” the earl asked, gazing at her with a strange look in his eyes.
She nodded.
“If I push you too hard, Mary, you must let me know. I’m accustomed to women complaining incessantly about any hardship they encounter, and when you didn’t object, I assumed you weren’t in any distress.”
“I am not in distress, my lord,” she retorted, raising her chin. “And I’m not accustomed to complaining about my lot, whatever it may be. If the women you have known are as you say, I have no great respect for your acquaintances.”
A smile hovered on his lips. “Nor do I, come to think of it, my Mary. How old are you anyway?”
“What a swift change of subject,” she said. “Why do you wish to know?”
The earl groaned. “Is your age another secret from your veiled past?” he asked. “Let me see if I can guess. You’re really one hundred and nine years old, but because you’re a witch, you’re able to give the appearance of being only eighteen.”
Merriana smiled, as she knew he had intended for her to do. “I’ll be twenty-one on my next birthday.”
“And when will that be?”
“In May.”
“A veritable old lady,” he said with twitching lips.
“And how old might you be, my lord?”
“Much older than you, child.”
“Forty-five?” she guessed and then laughed at the mortified expression on his face.
“You’re fifteen years off, chit!”
“Ah,” she responded, nodding her head knowingly. “So you’re sixty.”
He laughed, then lunged for Merriana, grabbing both of her hands and pushing her onto her back on the blanket. “Wench,” he muttered as he landed on top of her, his face barely inches from hers. She was laughing too hard to fight, and the earl smiled at her. In a few seconds her laughter disintegrated into giggles and then into a smile. His own smile faded as he lay on top of her and a peculiarly penetrating expression appeared in his eyes. Merriana raised her eyebrows. “What, my lord?” she asked.
“Some promises are damnably hard to keep, Mary. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
She ignored the question and concentrated on the statement. “Promises? Do you mean the one about not kissing me?”
He smiled faintly. “You’re perceptive too,” he noted, at last releasing her hands but not moving otherwise.
Merriana blushed. “I…I enjoyed your kiss, my lord,” she whispered, astonishing herself with her admission. She’d never intended to be so honest with him, but then she’d never expected to find herself longing with such intensity to repeat the experience that had invoked in her such a myriad of emotions in the kitchen of the Drake and Cock only two evenings before.
“Then do you release me from my promise?” he whispered.
She could feel her blush deepening, but she nodded her head.
“First, tell me the truth, Mary. Was my kiss in the kitchen of the Drake and Cock the first you had ever known?”
“No,” Merriana was proud to be able to reply. “I had been kissed once before.”
“Once?”
She didn’t understand the distress she detected in his tone. Was he unhappy because someone else had kissed her? If so, she was sorry, but she didn’t like the lies she was sometimes forced to live to ensure her survival, and she was determined never to lie about an event that could in no way endanger her. And so she nodded. “Yes,” she replied firmly. “Yes, I had been kissed once before.”
The earl sighed and moved away from her to sit up once more before dropping his head onto his bent knees. Merriana watched him with a puzzled frown, first feeling confused and then hurt. “You don’t want to kiss me, my lord?” she asked softly.
He lifted his head and sighed. “Too much, my Mary, to allow myself to do so.”
“But if I want you to kiss me, why can you not allow yourself to do so?” she asked.
“For God’s sake, Mary,” he groaned. “Don’t you see? You’re not on this trip of your own free will and if I did more than kiss you, I’d be taking unfair advantage of you. And frankly, I don’t think I could kiss you without doing more.”
“Oh,” she responded as she gave careful thought to his words. “I think I understand. You would want to make love to me, is that it?”
He groaned again. “Could we change the subject, please?”
“But is that it?” she persisted, determined to understand why he wouldn’t allow himself to kiss her again.
“Yes, that’s the reason. And will you allow me to make love to you?”
“No, of course not,” she exclaimed. “I…I mean, no, I couldn’t. That would be wrong.”
“Exactly,” he said through clenched teeth. “Now could we change the subject?”
“Of course, my lord,” she responded stiffly. “I didn’t bring the subject up. Do you want to repack our things and be on our way again?”
“An excellent idea,” he said. “A nice long walk is just what I need right now.”
Merriana shrugged. Men were strange creatures, she reasoned, whose desires changed with lightning speed, first wanting kisses, then long walks. She quickly gathered their remaining food and stored it in her bundle. The earl was already stalking away, and she had to run a few steps to keep him in sight. At last he looked back, saw her running, and slowed down.
“I owe you an apology, Mary,” he said. “I assure you that the remainder of our association will be strictly businesslike.”
“As you wish, my lord,” she responded with a mental shrug. She was not at all sure what he meant but decided she wouldn’t ask. After all, her earlier questions seemed inexplicably to have put him in a very disagreeable mood.
They walked steadily for the rest of the afternoon, taking breaks only occasionally to get a drink of water from the stream or to let Merriana rest for a few minutes. The earl seemed never to grow tired, and Merriana was determined not to hold him back, so she tried to hide her growing weariness.
Only twice did they see other people, and these were at a distance. They had left the stream and the woodland behind and were now crossing mostly unplowed fields. Merriana felt sure there were villages in the area, but the earl seemed to have a sixth sense about avoiding them.
On two occasions, they had to cross a rural road but neither contained any other travelers. Still, the earl had approached them slowly and had then hurried Merriana across. “No need to have to answer questions if it can be avoided,” he had explained, and Merriana had only nodded her agreement.
As the sun began to lower in the afternoon sky, the wind grew stiffer and the air colder. “Can you continue walking for a while longer, Mary?” the earl asked. “I’m hoping to find a spot where I can build a fire without its being seen. There’s a wooded area off to our left that might suffice if you can make it that far.”
Merriana turned her eyes in the direction of his pointing finger. The forest was at least two miles away, and she didn’t feel like taking another step. “I can make it,” she announced in a firm tone, winning a nod of approval.
“Good girl. You can rest soon, I promise.”
Merriana did not waste her strength by responding.
The woodland proved to be just what the earl said they needed. It was deep enough so that when they reached its center, they could feel reasonably secure about their fire not being spotted by anyone who lived in the general area. There were also plenty of dry branches and limbs, and the earl soon had a fire blazing. He insisted that Merriana sit bes
ide it while he unpacked their food and blankets. Again, she was more tired than hungry, but she forced herself to eat because she knew she would need her strength the following day. As soon as she finished eating, the earl suggested that she lie down on a blanket he’d placed on the ground for her and then he covered her with a second blanket. Their third blanket he kept for himself and rolled up in it on the other side of the fire.
For the first few minutes after she lay down, Merriana was reasonably comfortable. Soon, though, cold began to seep up from the ground, through her blanket, and into her bones. Despite the fact that the earl had gotten up twice to throw more branches on the fire, the cold continued to creep in from the ground and then, as the temperature dropped, from all sides except where the fire warmed her. In a short time, Merriana’s teeth were chattering.
“Mary?” the earl called across the fire.
“Y-y-yes,” she answered.
“I can’t keep the fire going all night, and you can’t get any rest if your teeth are chattering like that. Will you let me lie beside you and help keep you warm with my body heat? I won’t touch you in any way that you would not want, I swear.”
“Y-y-yes,” Merriana replied. She had no interest in anything beyond feeling warm.
“Wonderful. First you need to stand up long enough for me to double the blankets beneath us. That will protect us from the cold seeping up from the ground.”
Merriana did as he suggested, and in a matter of minutes, he was lying beside her. He spread his blanket on top of them, then wrapped his arms around her and drew her close, burying his face in her hair. Within a couple of minutes she stopped shivering, and in a few more had snuggled closely to his chest.
He groaned softly.
“Are you uncomfortable, my lord?” Merriana murmured sleepily.
“Not at all,” he replied through his teeth. “Do you know your hair smells like lilacs?”
“Hmmm,” Merriana responded as she dropped into a deep sleep.
The Mysterious Merriana Page 5
